


Butterfly Daughter

by entirely_too_tall



Series: What's In A Name [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Family, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-10-31 06:10:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10893339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entirely_too_tall/pseuds/entirely_too_tall
Summary: He will never forget this moment. She looks so small, so red. No wonder babies are called aka-chan in Japanese. Viktor’s large hands could wrap around her entire body, and he was so afraid to hold her for a moment, afraid his large size would break this fragile little creature. Their child that is now in his arms. “Just you wait, motylenok. You will grow up to be the most beloved and beautiful person in the world.”A look at Viktor and Yuuri's daughter growing up through the ages.





	1. Birth

**Author's Note:**

> Yuri On Ice, its characters, and world, belong to Kubo-sensei and Yamamoto-sensei, and MAPPA Studios, except for the additional characters which I have created to fit into said world and characters. None of my creations within this context shall be used for commercial purposes.

_This is happening_ , Viktor thinks, this is really happening. _I am holding my daughter in my arms. My daughter._ Our _daughter._

 

Viktor and Yuuri have both been up for a tense 12 hours by Mari’s side, as she screamed and panted and gripped their hands so hard it hurt, but they didn’t complain because it was nothing compared to what Mari was going through. A gruelling 12 hours that started around 1pm in the afternoon and had forced the Katsuki family to close the onsen doors for the day, and took Viktor and Yuuri out of the rink too. It was a blessing that it was a safe and uneventful delivery, and Viktor knows that he will be forever grateful to Mari for agreeing to help carry their child into existence. Their child that is now in his arms.

 

He will never forget this moment. She looks so small, so _red_. No wonder babies are called _aka-chan_ in Japanese. Viktor’s large hands could wrap around her entire body, and he was so afraid to hold her for a moment, afraid his large size would break this fragile little creature. But when the nurse took her from Mari’s arms and handed her over to Viktor, she fell into the nook of his elbow and he cradled her to his chest instinctively, and it was the easiest thing in the world. 

 

He leans in to whisper at their daughter, _Viktoria Viktorovna Katsuki, welcome to this world._ Then, he plants a soft kiss on her head, and hands her off Yuuri, who has literally been waiting on the edge of his seat. As he receives his daughter, Yuuri looks just as awed as Viktor, filled with wonder and love for their child. 

 

“What is the nickname? Viktoria nickname.” Mari asks absentmindedly, wanting to learn the endearing little names that Yuuri used on Viktor for her child. She knew that the Russian liked these nicknames, and wants that form of affection to live on in the family, and wanted herself to be involved in it as well.

 

“Vika. Vika or Vita.” Viktor supplies, eyes never leaving his daughter. His _dochka_. _His_ dochka. Viktor is bursting. He didn’t realize anyone could be filled with so much love, not even during all his time with Yuuri did he feel anything like this. Is this what all parents feel for their children? It must be wonderful, and terrifying, because Viktor could not bear to imagine anything bad to happen to his child, it hurts him already just from the prospect of it.

 

“I like Bika. Beautiful song. Katsuki Bika.” Mari smiles tiredly, and closes her eyes. She is exhausted, and sweaty, and some of her hair is sticking to the side of her face, but she is glowing. Radiant. Serene. It was a difficult pregnancy, but it’s all over now, their baby has been safely delivered. She can finally rest easy tonight.

 

Viktor, he looks at Mari with gratitude, then at Yuuri holding Vika and sees the loves of his life. The ones he would give an arm for, a leg, his body and his career and his everything. Viktor used to wonder why people would retire from sports for their family, but in this instant it becomes clear to him. He wants to be with his family for as long as possible, as much as possible. If it meant never travelling for competitions again, never going out on the ice to risk a serious injury again, as long as he can be there for Vika, it will be worth it.

 

He walks over to perch on the arm of the chair Yuuri is in, and pulls Yuuri in close to his body with one arm, the other reaching out to stroke the face of their daughter. Their daughter that he will protect like dyedushenka did, dote on like papenka. They look at her, just quietly absorbing the moment.

 

“Just you wait, motylenok. You will grow up to be the most beloved and beautiful person in the world.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary:
> 
> 赤ちゃん (aka-chan): baby  
> дочка (dochka): daughter, from root дочь (doch)  
> мотыленок (motylenok): little moth/butterfly  
> 勝生 美歌 (Katsuki Bika): 美 means beautiful, is pronounced bi or mi depending on the context, 歌 is song, and typically 美歌 is pronounced as mika instead of bika, but it’s not uncommon for Japanese names nowadays to completely ignore the proper pronunciation. In fact, it’s become a problem because parents will choose a name that sounds nice, and kanji that has a nice meaning, and shoehorn them together without regards to whether they match. Since Japanese doesn’t have the v sound, it typically gets replaced by the b sound, and that’s what Mari goes with. This is the official name on the birth certificate, 勝生 美歌, because that’s what fits in a Japanese birth certificate. She is still, in essence, Viktoria Viktorovna Niforova, but Viktor calls her with the last name Katsuki to show that he recognizes her place in the Katsuki family, since she is already Viktorovna, daughter of Viktor.
> 
> Find me on [ tumblr](http://ohjustletmewriteinpeace.tumblr.com).


	2. 3 Years Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time Vika walked, she was at home with Mari, while Viktor and Yuuri were out with their respective students in the rink and studio. Yuuri was happy for a whole week, but Viktor sulked at missing the moment. Which makes this current moment somewhat of a payback of sorts, cashing in his good karma credit and getting to witness the milestone of the first time of Vika _skating_.

The first time Vika walked, she was at home with Mari, while Viktor and Yuuri were out with their respective students in the rink and studio. Actually, no one managed to notice it, though, since everyone was working and she was left playing by herself in her room. But she crawled out into the hallway and a lost guest stumbled upon her and carrier her out into the common area, where she continued to exercise her newfound mobility by walking into every guest and eliciting coos and giggles. Mari was passing by and saw, and immediately threw down the laundry she was carrying and rushed in with a shriek of utmost joy to kiss her daughter and marvel at the milestone. Yuuri was happy for a whole week, but Viktor sulked at missing the moment. 

 

Which makes this current moment somewhat of a payback of sorts, cashing in his good karma credit and getting to witness the milestone of the first time of Vika _skating_. Yuuri would bring her to the rink after his classes and bring her onto the ice to mingle with the other children near the end of Viktor’s class. It has been a few months now, and Vika has started trying to let go of Yuuri’s hand to skate on her own. Luckily for children of her age, falling down doesn’t hurt much since they have hardly any distance to fall, and she eagerly jumps back up to try again. 

 

“Saido, saido, otousan!” She is giggling and yelping and squealing with giddiness at being on the ice, as familiar to it as walking on land, even if she is still stumbling about. “Papenka! Miteka?” She calls out to Viktor, flailing and unsteady and falling, but grinning cheerfully throughout. 

 

Viktor dismisses his students to do their final laps and stretches, and looks over. Vika sees her father watching and grins even wider, her nose scrunching up and eyes crinkling around the edges, and makes her way to him. Her toe pick catches on the ice and she stumbles. She keeps going, almost running on the ice. But somewhere in the middle, somehow, she glides a whole meter before slowing to a stop. No teetering, no rocking, just a smooth sail down from otousan towards papenka. 

 

She looks momentarily stunned by what happened, slightly unbelieving that she just skated a straight line. But it doesn’t last long, as the realization dawns on her and she looks up with the most radiant smile Viktor’s seen yet. And she doesn’t have time to reach her arms out all the way before Viktor has skated over and scooped her up into his arms, whooping and spinning and nuzzling into her for her achievement. Yuuri skates up to them and beams, kissing Vika’s cheek while praising her. “Soon golubka will be flying across the ice like her papenka.”

 

“Hai!” Vika burst into more giggles, and demands “opusti! Opusti kara mottokai skate!”

 

Viktor blows a raspberry into Vika’s other cheek, which elicits more laughter from all of them, and then sets her down, whereupon Vika turns and manages to immediately trip. But she jumps straight back up and actually manages to skate for a few more times in between more falls and giggles, before they all leave for home to tell Mari and the family the happy news.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary:
> 
> 再度 (saido): again  
> お父さん (otousan): father  
> 見てか (miteka): (are you) watching?  
> はい (hai): yes/yeah/sound of agreement  
> опусти (opusti): lower/let down/let go  
> から (kara): preposition, meaning because/from/since/out of/by/at  
> もっと回 (mottokai): more times  
> Opusti kara mottokai skate: Let (me) down so I can skate again/more. Vika is seriously doing some inventive languagebending here. Children are actually very sensitive to grammar structures and mixing them into something that makes sense to them. This sentence took me 45 minutes to construct. Never again. If I get anything wrong, please let me know!
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://ohjustletmewriteinpeace.tumblr.com).


	3. 6 Years Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mari has been excited for _weeks_ , because this year, Mari will let Bika-chan help set up the hina-nin’gyo for Hinamatsuri. They’ll get to do this together, just like how Mari herself did with okaasan when she was young. It breaks Mari’s heart a bit, that Mari will have to bear the burden of her different family.
> 
> "Okaasan, are we not normal?”
> 
> It breaks Mari’s heart a lot.

Mari has been excited for this for _weeks_. Ever since New Year’s in fact, because this year, Mari will let Bika-chan help set up the hina-nin’gyo for Hinamatsuri. They’ll get to do this together, just like how Mari herself did with okaasan when she was young. 

 

“Ok, Bika-chan, do you know who these two are?” Mari picks up the emperor and empress dolls, and holds them in front of her face, shaking them a bit. Bika-chan reaches out with grabby fingers, and Mari hands the empress over. Bika-chan holds it reverently, fingers brushing over the ornate patterns of the karaginu and mouth hanging open in a silent ‘wah’.

 

“This is the ohina-sama, and she is getting married to the odairi-sama,” Mari says, hopping the emperor doll in her hand towards the empress in Bika-chan’s hands, and miming them holding hands, which was slightly difficult given that their hands were holding the baton and fan. Mari sets down the empress in her lap and takes over the emperor lightly, as if it were sacrilegious to touch something so exquisite. The gold threads accented the blue and yellow patterns over a red base, and the effect was intricate and mesmerizing. 

 

Eventually, Mari nudges Bika-chan’s hand, gently guiding her to place the doll on the top tier, “They go on the top, where they are entertained and served food and sake. We’ll get to eat some special food too, when Hinamatsuri comes in March.” 

 

Bika-chan places them both up onto the covered shelf, and adjusts their position to her satisfaction, head cocked to one side and hands on her hips and she inspects her work. She turns around after having deemed the display adequate, and peers into the box, asking “what is next?”

 

Mari picks out the three server girls, and Bika-chan exclaims, “Oh! Three girls, they are the daughters! Like Axel, Loop and Lutz!” 

 

This elicits a hearty chuckle from Mari, shaking her head. “No, these are court girls, the sannin-kanjo. They serve sake to odairi-sama and ohina-sama. They are only getting married anyway, they won’t have any children yet.”

 

“Oh. But okaasan, you and papenka are not married, but I was born.” Bika-chan asks, confusion worming its way into her brows, a furrow growing in her forehead.

 

“Well, it’s common for people to wait for marriage to have children, but sometimes you don’t have to wait till marriage if you don’t want to.” Mari explains softly, having expected this conversation to come up, feeling both ready to answer but also not ready for her Bika-chan to be so grown up to have to worry about making sense of her different family.

 

“But papenka is already married to otousan. Are you also going to marry papenka? Can you do that? And other families like the Nishigoris, their otousan and okaasan are married and not siblings, and they don’t have a papenka, and it’s always a man and woman, not like otousan and papenka, and -” Bika-chan is running her mouth with all these questions, and it becomes evident to Mari that she had been thinking about these for a while. It breaks Mari’s heart a bit, that Mari will have to bear the burden of this difference against a less-than-understanding world as it is.

 

“- and okaasan, are we not normal?” 

 

It breaks Mari’s heart a lot.

 

Bika-chan is not fretting over this, not exactly. She has a look that is more curious than shamed, which relieves Mari a little, that Bika-chan hasn’t yet experienced any bullying or inadequacy to make her feel pain against her lot. Mari gathers herself together to answer. If she can plant that seed of pride in Bika-chan for her family, and block her from being fazed by the whispers and side-eyes that Mari gets about her family, it will be her most important duty yet fulfilled as a parent. She holds Bika-chan by a shoulder, the other hand caressing her head, and looks her in her beautiful hazel eyes.

 

“Bika-chan, this is very important. Yes, our family is somewhat different from normal, and we are not the normal family. But that doesn’t mean we are a bad family, or insufficient in some way. In fact, you have a papenka, more than what others have, because you have more parents who love you, more people who love you in your family. Your otousan married your papenka because they love each other, and they asked me to have you with papenka because they knew that I wanted to have a child, and they also wanted a child, and because they also loved me, their family, they wanted to share. So we had you and we shared you, and you are the best thing to have happened to our family. As long as a family is full of love, it is a good family, no matter who is in it. Do you understand?”

 

Bika-chan is silent for a while, quietly looking back into Mari’s eyes, as if deciding whether it was her turn to comfort her mother. Mari herself is waiting, inwardly impatient and slightly desperate to know that her daughter will come out of this conversation stronger than she herself will be on this issue. 

 

Slowly, after a few breaths that felt like thirty heartbeats too many to Mari, Bika-chan answers “Hai, okaasan. I understand.”

 

Mari releases a sighing smile, relieved, and turns her gaze towards the sannin-kanjo. “Let’s finish putting these dolls up.” 

 

Bika-chan picks up one of them, the sitting one, and asks, “If these actually were the daughters, they would be princesses, right?”

 

“Yes, just like you are, Bika-chan. You are our hime-chan, too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary:
> 
> hina-nin’gyo (雛人形): Hina doll  
> Hinamatsuri (雛祭り): Doll festival, commonly also known as Girl’s Day or Princess Day  
> okaasan (お母さん): mother  
> karaginu (唐衣): the outermost jacket layer of the 12-layered royal clothing ensemble (十二単, juunihitoe)  
> odairi-sama (御内裏様): emperor  
> ohina-sama (御雛様): empress  
> For both of the above, the word 御 (o) and 様 (sama) are almost never written out, and their kana written instead (お and さま), the latter being the honorific for royalty and those with esteemed respect. Furthermore, these are indirect pronouns, as is common in Japanese when being polite. The actual words for emperor and empress are respectively obina (男雛) and mebina (女雛).  
> sannin-kanjo (三人官女): three court ladies  
> hime (姫): princess
> 
> I am writing in the Japanese words for the nouns, but keep in mind Mari and Vika would speak to each other entirely in Japanese. Vika would be Bika-chan to Mari, and the narration reflects that change. 
> 
> [Do](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hinamatsuri) [check](https://savvytokyo.com/hinamatsuri-a-japanese-girls-day-celebration/) [out](http://justhungry.com/hinamatsuri-girls-festival-article-japan-times-plus-my-aunts-antique-hina-dolls) [Hinamatsuri](https://spajzgirl.wordpress.com/2012/03/06/the-day-of-little-princesses-or-our-hina-matsuri-feast-in-japan/).
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://ohjustletmewriteinpeace.tumblr.com).


	4. 9 Years Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The phone call came with no warning. Papenka’s face turned ashen like the time Vika sprained her ankle trying a double Loop. It was all hushed tones and worried whispers, “She has a right to choose. She should know about her grandmother, and if this truly is the last time to see her, she has that right too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: It's not explicitly mentioned, but a character is diagnosed with a terminal illness (pancreatic cancer) and the family is in the process of dealing with that knowledge. The character is currently alive and not suffering yet, but there is no cure. Allusions to past family issues that are vague and not mentioned. 
> 
> This is a chapter about reconciliation between an estranged parent and child, through the eyes of a very young grandchild. It fits into the larger universe I have planned for Viktor and his family, but here I wanted to show Vika growing up and dealing with a family member's mortality, even though they had no relationship.

The phone call came with no warning. Papenka’s old coach did email beforehand, saying he gave papenka’s number to someone and a call would come through, saying it was important to answer the call, but didn’t elaborate. Everything was a scramble after it happened, Papenka’s face turning ashen like the time Vika sprained her ankle trying a double Loop. It was all hushed tones and worried whispers, but a flight to Moscow was hammered out, with the rink and studio sessions cancelled for a few days.

 

“Should we tell her? Should we bring her along?” Otousan’s voice was low and quiet.

 

“I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel about it myself. Will she be ok? Will this be too much for her?” Papenka’s voice was watery and tight, clearly crying while he said this.

 

“She has a right to choose. She should know about her grandmother, and if this truly is the last time to see her, she has that right too. She’s strong, our Bika-chan. I can tell her if you want.” Okaasan was calmer than the other two, but her voice was also wavering slightly.

 

 _Grandmother? Last time to see her?_ These were heavy things, and Vika was not expecting them at all. In an abstract sense, she knew she had another set of grandparents, papenka’s own papenka and mamenka, but he almost never talked about them. And now they’re flying off to see her for the last time? She’s _dying_? Suddenly, Vika felt very dizzy, that the world was being unfair for taking away her grandmother even before they could properly get to know each other, even when she hadn’t even had a relationship with her. Just the thought of losing her made Vika unbalanced.

 

The screen door slid open to a gasp from okaasan, and otousan stumbling as he stood up so quickly. Papenka was just staring at the table, head downcast. 

 

“You heard?” Okaasan asked softly, petting Vika’s hair, as if sensing that she needed the comfort.

 

“Yes. I want to meet my grandmother. Babushenka. I want to go.” Vika said, willing herself to be strong for her parents. 

 

Papenka looked up at her and smiled wanly, but otherwise didn’t move. Vika couldn’t either, when okaasan hugged her and left for her own room, and only after otousan hugged her as well and asked her if she was ok, did she nod and turn away towards her room. She fell into an uneasy dreamless sleep.

 

XX

 

They have left for the kitchen for a break, otousan comforting papenka and trying to get him to settle his nerves and drink some tea. Vika, seeing that she has no idea what to do and not wanting to get in the way of her parents, walks around the living room.

 

It was nothing like she expected. Then again, she didn’t know what she was expecting, but ending up in a lavish Moscow apartment filled with glittering awards for singing was definitely not what she expected. And seeing her grandmother, looking yellow and purple and clearly having lost weight recently, struck Vika with shock, because despite looking so sickly, she was beautiful. She looked like papenka, the same mouth and jaw, forehead and nose arranged into the same handsome look. She looked regal, even in frailty. Vika thought she would feel more uneasy, coming here, but it all felt normal, unexpectedly and boringly normal.

 

But the sight of his mother hit papenka very hard, and he fell into sobs the moment he saw her. No doubt because the image in his mind from whenever he last saw her contrasted so sharply against her current state, and made for a very painful reminder of her rapidly diminishing health. They conversed in Russian, and Vika could only make out some phrases, the rest too quick to follow.

 

“I’m so sorry, my son.” “I want you to know I loved you.” “I regret it every single day.” from her interspersed with “It’s ok.” “I’m ok.” “I love you.” from papenka. Both Vika and otousan stood in the room, not entirely clear on the backstory but bearing witness to the healing between the parent and child. 

 

Eventually, grandmother took notice of them and papenka remembered to introduce them to her in Russian. She smiled at them and both of them replied in however much Russian they could manage. Then, not having any direction for the conversation to move forward, everyone fell silent for a good minute or two, before grandmother rose to excuse herself to the bathroom.

 

Now, with her fathers in the kitchen, Vika takes a survey of the memorabilia on display, trying to piece together the life before papenka left the home he grew up in. Except there are no family photos for her to scrutinize, she realizes after a while. There are no photos at all. Their home back in Hasetsu is filled with photos, framed up on the walls and desks and shelves, but here there are only trophies and trinkets. Vika is puzzled at this, but rationalizes that whatever that papenka and grandmother were apologizing for, it must have been serious enough to have caused the disappearance of the photos that must have existed before.

 

She is startled when she hears a throat being cleared beside her. Grandmother has returned from the bathroom, and is looking at Vika with dark brown eyes, much like her own. They look so fond, but sorrowful, as if knowing too that she will not know Vika much more beyond today. “Come have a sit with me, Vika.”

 

They sit down, Vika perched uneasily on the soft embroidered cushions while grandmother sits next to her and leans forward, holding her hands. 

 

“You are so beautiful, but different from your father. It is good, to see a dark haired Nikiforov.” She chuckles at her observation, while Vika simply smiles and demurs. “You are strong and beautiful, I see you have the body of a figure skater, just like my son. His father would call him _shchenok_ , and that makes you _shchenyachka_. But I think you deserve the name I was called even more, _boginya_. He has a family that he loves and loves him, I am so glad.” Grandmother has her eyes trained on their hands gipped together, cold and tight. “Please do not let him forget that, that his _boginya_ loves him.”

 

“I won’t, babushenka. I promise.” Vika answers, unsure of the weight of her promise, but knowing it to be heavier than she will ever understand. She intends to rise to the challenge, to make sure that papenka will remember he is loved, even if she isn’t sure why she need to do so.

 

Grandmother takes in a deep, shuddering breath. Finally she meets Vika’s gaze again, grateful, chasing away traces of remorse. “Thank you. I’m sorry we have to meet like this. I wish we had more time. Take care. Take care of him for me.”

 

“I will.” Vika doesn’t know how she decided to do so, but she leans in to hug her grandmother, and it feels somehow like a scene she has seen of her parents sometimes, the older Russian curling into the embrace of a younger Japanese for comfort and support. She feels a connection between her and babushenka blossom, and she begins to feel the pain of their lost past and future together. They may not have had a relationship, but they do love papenka, and that fact ties them together, anchoring them as their tears drip and anoint each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://ohjustletmewriteinpeace.tumblr.com).


	5. 12 Years Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is the night before her junior debut, and Vika is finally feeling the pressure. She saw the other competitors during public practice that morning so far beyond her. She is being left behind in the dust, or in this case, ice shavings.
> 
> Papenka grabs at the covers and yanks it around him before crowding down next to her and wrapping her in his arms, the covers enveloping them both now in a warm cocoon. It’s Story Time, and this is the mandatory Story Time Position. She’s curious what anecdote papenka will use to try and cheer her up this time.

It is the night before her junior debut, and Vika is finally feeling the pressure. She saw the other competitors during public practice that morning, her friends she hasn’t competed with in a few years, suddenly so much better, improved so far beyond her. It is of course reasonable to expect them to have become astounding skaters in their own right, they are in the age of growing up and into stronger and more capable bodies. But that knowledge does nothing to calm Vika’s nerves. After all, she hasn’t had that advantage, and is being left behind in the dust, or in this case, ice shavings.

 

Having been uncharacteristically quiet at dinner, Vika claims she is tired and asks to go back to the hotel room early, while letting her parents stay and catch up with Ciao Ciao. She has just finished brushing her teeth and changing into her pajamas when papenka walks into the hotel room and begins changing out of the coats.

 

“Did you finish already? Where is otousan?” Vika asks, curious as to why one of her parents didn’t walk through the door with the other. They were hardly ever apart, couldn’t bear to even after so many years together.

 

“He’s still with Ciao Caio, I just came back early as well. I didn’t know him much anyway, only Yuuri did.” He replies while shrugging into his pajamas as well.

 

“Oh. Ok.” Vika responds simply, not knowing what to add and not really wanting to either. She tucks herself into her bed and lies down, but not really wanting to go to sleep just yet, and also not feeling like scrolling through her social media feeds. She doesn’t know what to do except stare at the ceiling.

 

Papenka senses this, and comes to sit on her bed, smoothing down her hair and gently caressing her. They’re similar this way, taking comfort in tactile gestures that do not come as easily from the other Katsuki’s. “What’s wrong, motylenok? Are you not feeling well?”

 

“No… It’s just, I’m nervous. Everyone is so much better than me now, and I’m scared. I’ll look so bad.” Vika shrinks down under the covers, feeling ashamed for being silly. She knows she’s being silly, but she can’t help herself, she’s a worrier. 

 

Papenka clears his throat, as if preparing to say something, but Vika doesn’t emerge from the safety of her covers, so she doesn’t know exactly what is going on outside. He proceeds to say, “You’re right, everyone is much better than you now.”

 

Vika thrown down her covers to stare at papenka, a look of utter betrayal in her wide eyes and hanging jaw. He takes this opportunity to grab at the covers and yank it around him before crowding down next to her and wrapping her in his arms, the covers enveloping them both now in a warm cocoon. She yelps at her capture, but resigns to being entrapped for the time being. It’s Story Time, and this is the mandatory Story Time Position. She’s curious what anecdote papenka will use to try and cheer her up this time.

 

“I let down a lot of people when I decided to pursue figure skating.” Papenka opens with an admission, which catches Vika by surprise. She has never heard of papenka doing anything other than figure skating, and figured everyone was happy that he did, he was so good at it.

 

“My papenka and dyedushenka were famous hockey players, both making it to the Russian Olympic team. Everyone expected me to do the same, but I was too sensitive. Too afraid of hitting people and getting hit. Even when I was too young to start checking, the idea of it terrified me. I had seen my papenka get hit and injured and come home with bruises and missing teeth and broken bones, and I didn’t want that at all.”

 

Vika doesn’t know what to say at this revelation. It doesn’t seem in any way related to her current situation, but papenka seems pensive and distant, pulling back into his own childhood to share, and she knows better than to interrupt these rare moments to glimpse into his past.

 

“When I started figure skating instead, a lot of papenka’s and dyedushenka’s friends were disappointed. So was the media, papers and radios sometimes saying things about me or papenka, ‘what a loss, what a shame’. Those were the kinder words said, other worse ones would get dyedushenka so mad he wanted to get up and fight.” Papenka somehow smiles at that, which confuses Vika. Didn’t he just say he was uncomfortable with violence? 

 

“He was always so protective. Would never hurt anyone, except those who come after the people he cared about. Mishka Medvedev, the fierce papa bear.” A chuckle from papenka reveals that he does carry some find memories of his old family, even if he usually suppresses them.

 

“I remember feeling so upset. That I let people down, that I did the wrong thing. But papenka told me, told me that it doesn’t matter what people say. As long as I choose to do what made me happy, the people who cared about me, really cared about me, would let me be happy and do what I wanted. That it didn’t matter what I did and whether I accomplished anything, I would be loved anyway.” Now Vika can see where this is going, and understands what papenka wants to communicate to her, that she doesn’t need to worry about disappointing him or otousan or okaasan. They are the most comforting words any child can receive, and she is so glad to hear them, feeling relieved and grateful for her loving family.

 

She smiles up at her papenka, but only sees eyes so sad, staring into a distant past. There’s more to the story.

 

“It helped me a lot, hearing that. I did my best and ended up winning a lot but I… I forgot that lesson after a while, living by myself in St Petersburg. I started listening to what other people said about me again and… Your otousan and I, we both forgot that lesson and didn’t re-learn it again until we met each other.” 

 

The words come out slow, pained. There’s definitely more to this story that is being glossed over, Vika can tell. But papenka is trying to cheer her up, so she lets him. Instead, she snuggles closer into his chest, and puts her head over his heart to hear his heartbeat, something he says she never stopped doing since she was a baby, and, secretly, she continues to do to remind him that she is and will always be his little baby girl.

 

“So I want you to know, especially now that you will start competing internationally, I want you to remember, that we will always be proud of you, because you’ve already come so far. You are already so, so wonderful, so talented, so accomplished, you have made us so proud already. Don’t be too hard on yourself, you are our boginya, perfect and glorious. We don’t need you to win, we just want you to have fun. We want you to be happy. That is the most important thing, that you are happy, ok? Promise you won’t forget?”

 

Papenka finally gets to saying it out loud to Vika, but she already understands it. Still she appreciates the opening up from papenka, and mumbles “thank you, I promise” into his chest, thankful for papenka’s family for protecting him, and remembering suddenly, that she is boginya too, that she can protect her papenka in her little ways. She can do her best, and make him proud, and hold him close when he needs to, and let him hold her close too. 

 

They fall asleep together like that, without turning off the lights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://ohjustletmewriteinpeace.tumblr.com).


	6. 15 Years Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You should ask them to come to practice, you can skate together, maybe teach them how to skate do a few tricks. Hold their hand so they don’t fall.” Otousan says, innocently and not-suggestive at all. “And it’s not like you haven’t been spending all your time talking about them. They’re cute, you would look good together.” Otousan is shameless. Truly shameless. Papenka has corrupted him. Vika can’t even face him right now.

Vika feels like she could just melt into a puddle and slip into a drain and out to the sea, disappear into a puff of smoke and dissipate into the atmosphere, spontaneously combust and turn to ash in the wind, anything at all would be better than to stand there and endure the conversation that is to come with otousan.

 

 _“You are good too”??_ _Oh kami-sama what is wrong with you Vika dig yourself a grave and throw yourself in right now just go Otousan will start talking and then you’ll never recover might as well walk into an open manhole off the side of the bridge launch yourself into the sun —_

 

“You should ask them to come to practice, you can skate together, maybe teach them how to skate do a few tricks. Hold their hand so they don’t fall.” Otousan says, innocently and not-suggestive at all with that soft honest smile that just doesn’t make it any better than the teasing that papenka dishes out on the regular. He truly actually means that. He wants them to skate together. Like on a date. _ohnothisissomuchworseadatenonononono_

 

“Vika-chan, breathe. It will be fine, they like you. After all, they waited for you to finish practice to compliment you and give you their phone number.” Otousan is patting Vika’s back to calm her but what he is saying is _not helping right now_. She can’t go on a date after that disastrous attempt at normal conversation. 

 

_~15 minutes ago~_

 

No-longer-secret-admirer: “Hi, you’re Katsuki-san right? I made this card for you, and here’s some chocolate. It’s congratulations, for championships you won last month. I saw it on TV, you skated really well!”

Vika, the woman with a foot in her mouth, probably with her skates on: “Thanks” … … … “You are good too.”

Probably-no-longer-an-admirer: … … … Thanks?

Vika, the woman with two feet in her mouth, definitely with skates on: … … … 

Why-did-you-even-admire-me-in-the-first-place: _tries to maintain eye contact_

Vika, the woman who is probably a lizard for all her social skills: _continues to be awkward and silent and avoids eye contact and oh god why are they still not leaving_

Otousan, saviour bringing deliverance from this mess: _enters scene after pretending not to hear or see the tsunami that is his daughter crash and demolish her image as a socially adjusted person_

Vika, damsel in very much distress: _dashes away dragging her otousan without saying anything_

 

_~Present~_

 

She’s a national embarrassment. It’ll be all over Twitter soon: Katsuki Vika, unable to talk like a human being. 

 

“And it’s not like you haven’t been spending all your time talking about them. They’re cute, you would look good together.” Otousan is still saying all of this without a hint of irony or sarcasm. Sometimes Vika wonders if he is actually just the world’s best actor and mastermind, secretly enjoying making people around him flustered while hiding behind his facade of innocent naivety. Because she is _dying_ right now and he keeps saying all the right things to hammer more nails into her metaphorical coffin. 

 

So she did have a crush on them since, like, last fall when they came back to school without braces and, like every cliche ever, suddenly blossomed into beauty or something. It was terrible. She can’t believe herself. She and the other hordes of boys and girls who were struck by the overwhelming aura of attraction emanating from their presence, like they were in a manga and sparkles and hearts would float about. Why is her life like this? Why must she succumb to the lovely summer tan and new muscles accentuated and on display at basketball practice and flattering trendy haircut and _no stop it right now Vika what are you doing_ —

 

“You could invite them to our onsen, I’m sure they would enjoy a free soak. That’s how I got started with your papenka.” Otousan says with absolutely no shame in his voice and Vika is _disgusted_. She’s heard the story many many times, and her parents flirting and humping in their twenties is not an image she wants to recall right now.

 

“Easy for you to say, you don’t even remember it! You and papenka spent 9 months together before it even came out that you didn’t remember inviting him! You don’t remember being the fool, but I remember what I just said and do I wish I can forget it!” Vika is indignant at her otousan’s downright _incorrect_ advice. But even more so she is still convinced she will forever never live down this moment. The most popular person in school discovered she is a werido, word will get out, she will never have friends again.

 

“Ok ok. I just want you to know. I was so afraid, of not being good enough for your papenka. I turned down a photo with him before the banquet, and hid away from him during it before I got drunk.” Otousan has stopped walking and is looking at the ocean, watching the sun making its way down to the horizon. “We had a big argument that first Grand Prix Final together, over that. I was still feeling so inadequate.” 

 

“It’s scary to put yourself out there to be loved, to feel not good enough for someone. I still thanks the gods for letting me get drunk and talking to your papenka that night. But it turned out ok. It turned out great!” Otousan turns to face Vika, grinning as wide as his wedding day. He probably _is_ thinking about his wedding day. 

 

“So when you have someone who has shown interest in you, and you know you like them a bit, take the leap. Find out if you can like them more than a bit. It might turn out to be the best small step you try, you never know! And if it takes a few nudges to help you get there,  _baby girl_ ,” he says that in English, in his teasing voice, finally admitting to being a terrible parent, “to discover a new way to be happier than you ever imagined you could be, well, otousan is not going to hold back.”

 

Otousan is shameless. Truly shameless. Papenka has corrupted him. Vika can’t even face him right now. She pivots and marches away as quickly as she can, and he chuckles before running up to catch her at her sides. Vika squirms and pretends to struggle out of his grasp, but is also trying to catch a bit of the confidence into her being, otousan’s steady certainty that things would turn out for the better. She blushes a little, imagining how she could be approaching a certain someone at school tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I planned these chapters out they were just: birth, 3 year old walk Viktor, 6 year old hinamatsuri Mari etc one word ideas with another person. This year was date, and Yuuri’s turn to parent bond. So I originally planned for a touching if embarrassing story of how he had this decade long crush and finally dared to try ask Viktor out, only for Vika to claim it can’t be anything like for her to ask her crush out unless she also got blackout drunk. But instead it turned into a comedy, partly because Vika didn’t have enough speaking parts and I thought hormonal embarrassed teen with crush would be fun to show. I have no idea who the other person is, and used gender neutral they since in Japanese the pronoun wouldn't even be mentioned. Boy or girl, you decide!
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://ohjustletmewriteinpeace.tumblr.com).


	7. 18 Years Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vika would stomp straight back to her room if she could, but as it is, with her femur fractured and unable to handle weight, she has no choice but to endure all these pitying looks as she is slowly paraded by through the open area in the front of the ryokan.

Vika would stomp straight back to her room if she could, but as it is, with her femur fractured and unable to handle weight, she has no choice but to endure all these pitying looks as she is slowly paraded by through the open area in the front of the ryokan. 

 

She had prepared so hard for this season, just to have it all shattered during warmups right before her first event at Skate America. It made her so angry, that she would lose this season entirely, miss out on the Grand Prix circuit and Nationals, which makes her disqualified for 4 Continents and Worlds. The timing could not have been worse. Just because someone didn’t watch out trying a jump and crashed.

 

Vika would have been bitter at Natalia Koroleva, who skated away with only bad bruises, which seems entirely unfair to Vika. The whole world watched her carried off the ice, crying with a broken leg, saw her season crumble around her, and will be enshrined forever on the internet when it eventually makes its way there. It’s enough to make Vika want to scream. But she knows she had her part of the blame to shoulder too. She should have been more aware, moved away and cleared the space when she saw Natalia approaching, instead of showing off for her fans. It somehow feels worse, knowing that she could have avoided this mishap.

 

Obaasan waited at the doorstep, while okaasan ran straight to envelop Vika in an embrace that was too tight, and they made their way slowly to the back room, where obaasan has katsudon waiting for them. Vika tries to eat, but her throat would not open. She fights back tears and the disappointment, the sorrow emptying into her stomach and shrinking it such that she has no appetite anyway. After 15 minutes of uncomfortable silence, she could not stand the scrutiny any more, and excuses herself to her room. Which means otousan helping her limp back, giving her a shoulder to lean against while she struggles along the corridor. She feels so helpless, so impotent.

 

Once in her room, otousan asks her is she needs anything, but Vika just curls up in her bed and faces the wall, back to the room. Otousan quietly leaves and slides the door closed, and Vika is left alone in the dark to brood, just like she wanted. Except she doesn’t want to, not entirely, but the pained looks on everyone’s face is just so much worse to bear.

 

Vika wakes up to knocking on her doorscreen. She doesn’t remember falling asleep, but sees that it has been a few hours since she last remembered checking the time. The knocking continues, and she hears obaasan’s soft voice calling through. “Vicchan, can I come in? I have laundry to put away in your room.”

 

 _That’s strange_ , Vika thinks, _why would I have laundry?_ But she calls to say come in, and true to her word, okaasan comes in with Vika’s clothes in a basket, warm out of the dryer. The lights come on, and Vika sees that they are the clothes she packed for Skate America. Obaasan answers knowingly, “I went ahead to wash all the clothes from the trip.”

 

Obaasan places the basket down and takes out an ironing board and iron from the basket, plugging it in. Then, she sits down on the floor and sets up to start ironing, right there in the middle of the room. It’s quite all quite bizarre, since the ironing usually gets done in the laundry room. In fact, it’s always done there, and folded before being brought out. Before Vika can quite get to finding some sense in what is going on, Obaasan turns to give a sweet smile and asks, “Would you help me fold these while I iron?”

 

“… Yes.” Vika agrees to the request, more out of inertia of the unfolding scene than her own understanding.

 

So they begin, obaasan ironing and humming, and periodically handing a garment over to Vika to fold. The song is a simple Japanese folk song, the same one okaasan would sing to her, and sometimes even otousan and papenka would hum it together too sometimes, when they were cuddled up together. It brings up memories of happy times, even though the lyrics are inexplicably sad, about some acorn that misses its tree after rolling downhill. The jolly little tune always puts a smile on Vika’s face, and though she isn’t in the space to be happy, the song tugs on her cheeks, easing some tension away.

 

Halfway through the small pile of clothes, the song finishes, and obaasan doesn’t restart or continue on with another song. The silence that creeps up after feels hollow and empty, like a warm light had just been put out while the rapidly fading afterglow, at odds with the rush of darkness, disorients the senses. Vika suddenly wants to say something, anything, to make some noise to fill in the space, but doesn’t know what to say, can’t make her throat work.

 

She doesn’t notice the next item being handed to her, but obaasan sees Vika’s slight frown. She sets down the iron, folds the shirt herself, and places it on the pile. Then, she proceeds to the next piece of clothing, as if nothing was wrong. It startles Vika a bit, and she catches herself in time to receive the next piece to fold. Obaasan doesn’t restart her humming, but the silence becomes more bearable, with the rhythm of the work taking hold and distracting Vika from her thoughts. It is only till all the clothes have been ironed and folded that obaasan stands up and Vika is pulled back to her senses about how strange this whole process is.

 

Obaasan proceeds to move about the room, putting the clothes back to where they belong, asking Vika where what should go, even though she knows just as well. The question and answer provides for another distraction, and thought it’s over too soon, Vika feels somewhat more at peace. Okaasan then comes to sit down on the bed, next to Vika, and fusses with her hair, telling her it has become a mess after sleeping in her braid and to undo it so she can tidy it up.

 

As their hands work together in undoing and brushing and then redoing the hair, okaasan finally speaks up. “Vicchan is just like your otousan. Needing to run off and do something to take the mind off an issue.” She continues her running her hands through Vika’s hair, deftly braiding it together into a fishtail.

 

The statement rings true, resonates like the heavy bell in the temple, reverberating deep into Vika’s body. Suddenly, she understands obaasan’s point of doing the ironing in her room, and folding and putting away the clothes the way it happened. She’s grateful, in a way, for obaasan to recognize this need and handle her emotionality this way, instead of having her suffer through agonizing gazes from others. Worse still because now she’s dependent on them for mobility, and feels so helpless on her own. Obaasan must have recognized that, to give her a task she could do, even if it was just folding her own clothes. Vika feels tears prick at the edges of her eyes, thankful for the reassurance she was just given, that she isn’t worthless.

 

It’s so simple, a household chore that they did together, but obaasan’s love shines so strong through it. In a short sentence, obaasan told Vika that she is understood, that she is cared for, that she can ask for and be asked for help, that it doesn’t need to be a big gesture. The small things count just as much. 

 

Obaasan finishes the braid, collects her items, and steps outside Vika’s room. But she turns around at the door and smiles the same soft smile, saying “Take you time and rest, Vicchan. You’ll be ok.” Then the screen slides closed, and footsteps fall away, but the blooming warmth stays, and Vika knows, knows that she’ll be ok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it had been unclear so far, from Vika’s perspective onwards, all relatives are referred to by their appropriate pronouns, so Viktor = papenka, Yuuri = otousan, Mari = okaasan, Hiroko = obaasan, and Viktor’s mother Lyudmila = babushenka. 
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://ohjustletmewriteinpeace.tumblr.com).


	8. 21 Years Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sitting on the bench in front of the cameras, Vika can’t help but vibrate with excitement for her score. She hopes it will be enough for a new personal best, and can’t wait for the judges. She looks to papenka, and sees a smile, the type that is soft and bittersweet. It says “My child is grown up, where has the time gone”. It says “You’ve outgrown me”.

Vika hears the crowd roaring, up on their feet, even before she has finished her final spin. She sticks her final pose, and then breaks into a laugh, giddy giggles bubbling out from her because she knows, she _knows_ that she has taken the gold. Finally, the Grand Prix Final gold is hers this year. She was top ranked coming in from the short program, and now she’s done a flawless, outstanding free skate. No mistakes, held her spirals long, clean edges all through. It’s the best she’s ever performed and she knows it. It makes her heart want to burst.

 

She does her bows and then skates around giving kisses and waving at the crowd. Flowers and insect plushies rain down, ladybirds and beetles and butterflies. A fan holds out a painting of her in ethereal watercolour wearing the same gold and blue butterfly wing outfit she has on, and Vika goes up to accept the offering, giving the fan a hug and tearful thanks of appreciation. She makes her way back to the entrance, picking up a bunch of tulips and a Butterfree plushie.

 

At the entrance, she launches into the arms of papenka, who is also ecstatic at his daughter’s stunning performance. As she stands back down, she sees that he has tears in his eyes, shining so proudly, his smile lines and crow’s feet crinkling up. Someone takes her gifts off her hands and hand over her blade guards, and after she takes care of the skates, they make their way over to the Kiss and Cry, alternately smiling at each other and the crowd, unable to contain their giddy joy.

 

Sitting on the bench in front of the cameras, Vika can’t help but vibrate with excitement for her score. She hopes it will be enough for a new personal best, and can’t wait for the judges. She looks to papenka, and sees a smile, the type that is soft and bittersweet. It says “My child is grown up, where has the time gone”. It says “You’ve outgrown me”. 

 

“Hey papenka, what are you thinking?” Vika prods gently.

 

“Hmm? Oh nothing. Just, I felt this old feeling I had, many years ago. The time when me and your otousan first sat here for our first Grand Prix Final together. It’s this feeling of incredible pride, of such love, I couldn’t love the person sitting next to me more.”

 

The same smile punctuates the admission, and Vika returns her own, reaching out to hold Viktor’s hands in hers.

 

“I love you too,” she replies.

 

They sit like that, their own bubble of companionable silence in the hubbub of the arena. It feels momentous, like a threshold has been passed and they’re in the liminal space between when something happened and when their bodies finally catch up to the realization. Whatever it is, this limbo will end when the score is announced, and suddenly, Vika wants to hold off learning the score for a while more. She wants to hold onto this vanishing thread with papenka.

 

All too soon, the score comes, and Vika indeed breaks her old personal best by a blazing 8 points and clinches the gold. Vika leaps up from joy and bows to the audience all around, to the cameras, and the other skaters in the waiting area. She waves, sits down and flaps the wings of her Butterfree, dashes the Nikiforov megawatt smile she inherited from papenka for the camera. Vika hugs papenka, bouncing at her victory, and he slings his arm around her waist to grip her close, beaming just as brightly.

 

Vika steps up to the podium to receive her flowers and medal, and when the Japan national anthem plays, it’s as emotional as she always imagined. She’s come so far, and now she’s the pride of the nation, helped add another gold to the national roster. She hopes she won’t become numb to the golds, hopes she will always feel this humbled and honored and delighted to win a hard earned medal.

 

As she returns to the sides after the ceremony, Vika catches papenka watching her with tears dancing around in his eyes. He tenderly holds her by her arms, rubbing up and down them and looking at her, as if she shot straight up into her current body from 3 years old and he’s just seen her for the first time. 

 

“My daughter. Viktoria Viktorovna, you have brought me so much joy. And now look at you, all big and grown. You’ve spread your wings, golubka. You’ll be crowned czarina, the new Skating Queen, and I am so proud.” He kisses her on her forehead, a ginger touch, as if delivering a benediction before setting her free.

 

“Thank you, papenka, thank you for everything," Vika reassures. "You know I’ll always be your motylenok, your butterfly daughter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. That's all I have planned for Vika. I had a very clear image of Viktor having a daughter that wins a gold and it's that moment when a parent sees their child grow up and become their own person, that's what I wanted for this chapter. I'm not happy with it, but I've been stuck for a week and I just wanted it out. 
> 
> Vika's story doesn't end here, obviously. I know that she eventually marries someone, and has a baby that her obaasan will live to see. She will not win any more GPF golds, and never any Worlds, but is very happy. The rest is unknown to me, but she lives on in yall too, and whatever you imagine for her. Please feel free to do so, and thank you for reading.
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://ohjustletmewriteinpeace.tumblr.com).


End file.
